


Through the Thunder and the Rain

by Who_Watches_the_Watchman



Series: You're the One I Believe In [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Al's POV, Al's not sure about this, Developing Relationship, M/M, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Watches_the_Watchman/pseuds/Who_Watches_the_Watchman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not going to tell me who you were with?”<br/>Ed stops, and his body tenses for a moment before he sighs, spins around, stalk across the room to the couch opposite the one that Al’s sitting on and drops down onto it. “You want to know?”<br/>Al frowns. That’s a strange question. Of course he wants to know. “Of course, Brother.”<br/>Ed gives him a fierce, nasty grin with too many teeth in it. “You’re sure?”<br/>Al begins to get a very horrid feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ed looks like he knows Al’s not going to be happy about this and he’s determined to enjoy it. Still, there’s only one answer, “Yes.”<br/>Keeping his gaze fixed on him, Ed raises one hand in the air and snaps his fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Thunder and the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> You gotta love Al.

Al’s not worried when he gets home from university and Ed’s not back yet. He orders takeout from the Cretan restaurant down the street and picks it up and brings it back to their apartment. He eats and after an hour, puts the rest away, finds one of his textbooks and begins drilling himself.

By ten o’clock, he’s mildly concerned.

By eleven, he’s apprehensive.

By midnight, he’s anxious.

Ed’s never stayed out this late before unless he was going drinking with Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery but he always told Al before he did that so that he could make sure that he wouldn’t go around slamming doors and leaving lights on.

Al’s just about to go looking when the door opens and Ed comes in.

From Al’s position on the couch, he can see his brother but he blends in well with the shadows and Ed seems unaware of his presence.

Al takes a moment before announcing his presence to study his brother. He doesn’t look drunk and he doesn’t smell drunk; Ed never just drinks a few beers and goes home. He either gets plastered or not at all.

Ed takes off his jacket and turns his back to Al as he hangs it up and Al finally notices his hair. It’s wet and hanging down his back in a long ponytail.

Al sits bolt upright, places both feet flat on the floor, and leans forward.

Ed turns around, sees him and blinks. “What are you still doing up?”

“Your hair is wet,” Al says.

Ed’s wince is so faint that nobody else would never have noticed it. But Al learned every nuance of his face years ago. “So?” He says defensively as he kicks his shoes off, almost violently.

“It’s not raining,” Al says.

“I’m going to bed,” Ed says and starts for his bedroom.

“You’re not going to tell me who you were with?”

Ed stops, and his body tenses for a moment before he sighs, spins around, stalk across the room to the couch opposite the one that Al’s sitting on and drops down onto it. “You want to know?”

Al frowns. That’s a strange question. Of course he wants to know. “Of course, Brother.”

Ed gives him a fierce, nasty grin with too many teeth in it. “You’re sure?”

Al begins to get a very horrid feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ed looks like he knows Al’s not going to be happy about this and he’s determined to enjoy it. Still, there’s only one answer, “Yes.”

Keeping his gaze fixed on him, Ed raises one hand in the air and snaps his fingers.

Al waits.

When Ed doesn’t do or say anything else, but just looks at him, Al thinks about the action.

And the color drains from his face. He feels it go. “ _No_.”

Ed just keeps looking at him.

The thought won’t fit in his head but it still forces its way past his lips, “You’re not sleeping with General Roy _Mustang_.”

No. No, impossible. Al’s watched them interact since Ed joined the military; he _knows_ that Ed hates the General. He _knows_ that Ed has better sense then to get involved with the future Fuhrer. He _knows_ that Ed’s too smart for General Mustang.

Ed’s eyes have gone too distant, too speculative, turned inward instead of outward and when he speaks, he seems to be speaking from a great distance. “Do you remember that story that Mom used to tell us? After that bastard left?”

Al blinks because what does a story that Mom used to tell them have to do with Mustang, why is he bringing this up–

“The one about the vices and virtues?”

Oh. That one. “You mean the one that explains why Love is blind and always accompanied by Madness?” _Oh. Wait_. “Are you saying…” Al swallows hard. He’s ridiculous to think it; Ed would never– “Are you saying you love him, Brother?”

Ed tilts his head back so that his face is turned to the ceiling and he’s not looking at Al anymore. “Yes, I do,” he says quietly.

“He’s fourteen years older than you!” Al splutters.

“I know.” Ed’s voice is quiet.

“He’s going to be Fuhrer!”

“I know.”

Al struggles for words then stops and simply looks at his brother.

Ed’s watching him, his eyes at half-mast as if he’s on the verge of falling asleep and it would be convincing it if wasn’t for the tension in every line of his body. He’s trying to convey the impression that he doesn’t care what Al thinks but he wants his brother to approve so badly that he’s almost shaking with it.

Al decides that it would be best to start at the beginning. So he leans back against the sofa and makes himself comfortable. If they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it right because apparently there’s a big part of Ed’s life that he wasn’t even aware of. “When did you start liking him?”

Ed sighs and closes his eyes, apparently accepting that they’re going to play twenty questions. “Honestly? Not until the Promised Day.”

There’s a moment of silence in the wake of that statement. They rarely talk about the Promised Day in the same way that a solider rarely talks about a war they’ve been in. It was the defining day of their lives. Their lives were clearly divided between Before and After the Promised Day.

“The day he went blind was the day you decided you liked him?”

Ed lifts his head enough to glare at him and Al feels a little relieved. They haven’t ended up in a different dimension. This is still his brother and they’re really talking about this.

“ _No, Al_. I mean, yes, but that’s not the reason I liked him. Look, it doesn’t really work that way. I can point at the day and say _that’s_ when things changed but I can’t really explain it. He was just… so _much_ in that day, you know? He came in and burned all those dummy soldiers to death and he was joking with Hawkeye and then he was raging at Envy and then he was threatening to burn my arm off and then he was blind and then he was burning Father to cinders and… He was so freaking _much_ that day. He was…” Ed paused as if trying to collect his thoughts and Al waited.

“He was fire,” Ed says finally, a little helplessly and Al can’t help but laugh. Ed throws a pillow at him and it catches him in the face but he doesn’t stop.

“Is that the best you can do, Brother?” Al asks when he’s gotten his breath back.

Ed glares. “He was wild and uncontrollable and furious and dangerous. And… broken. Ishval broke him. And then Hughes’ death broke him further. And I think…” Ed pauses then clears his throat and shifts a little, “I think I could make sure he stays that way.”

Al stares at him. He’s not sure that that sentence turned up in his head in the right order, or maybe it’s missing a key word. “Don’t you mean; you think you can fix him?”

Ed throws his head back and stares up at the ceiling, his right leg jittering. “It’s no good trying to fix people. Maybe, sometimes, you can make amends for what you did,” he doesn’t look at him but Al knows he’s talking about him, “and maybe sometimes, you can make someone’s life better, but you can’t fix them.”

He lifts his left leg and wiggles his automail toes. “Winry taught me that,” he says quietly. “Human beings aren’t machines and maybe you can patch the outside,” he slaps his left thigh once then lifts his hand, curls it into a fist, and settles it against his shirt, over his heart. “But you can’t fix the inside. You can never make it whole again.

“Roy lost part of himself in Ishval and he lost part of himself when Hughes died.” He stops and his face hardens with self-disgust and scorn. “But I lost part of myself when Mom died and when we attempted human transmutation.” He smirks a little. “Quite literally in fact.” He stops again.

Al’s just about to ask another question when Ed speaks, his voice little more than a murmur, “The thing about Roy, is he _gets_ it. He’s seen the Truth, not willingly I know, but he’s still seen it. The first time we met, he knew what I’d done. He knows about the biggest part of my life, Al. The thing that _defined_ me from the time I was eleven till I was sixteen… I don’t have to explain it to him. He already knows.”

Al waits but this time there doesn’t seem to be anything more forthcoming. It explains a lot. But… “Winry knows too.”

Ed grimaces slightly and sighs. “Al, I know you’ve never had a problem with me being bisexual but Winry… Look, our fighting wasn’t because of unacknowledged attraction. We were fighting because… we just _don’t get along_ most of the time. I love her to death and I know the feeling is mutual but there are times when I’d really like to smother her with a pillow in her sleep.”

_Maybe that’s part of it_ , Al thinks. The truth is that while he would die for Ed, quite literally, he just doesn’t understand what his brother sees in other guys. They’re just… guys. Fun to hang out with and easy to laugh with but they’re just guys.

Given a choice between General Mustang and Winry, he’d pick Winry in a heartbeat every time. It wouldn’t really even be a choice for him. Not so for Ed apparently.

Ed’s giving him a crooked kind of smile. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, Al. You’ve always been as straight as an arrow. But it’s just–” He waves his hand helplessly, “the way I am.”

Al manages a smile. “I know, Brother. He just… he has a bit of a reputation, that’s all. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t deny the reputation,” Ed says. “But I think that he could be happy with me. And I think… that I could be happy with him.”

Al leans back in his seat and this time his smile feels much more genuine. “Just so long as he understands that if he hurts you, I’ll make sure they never find his body.”

Ed rolls his eyes. “When is May coming to visit?” He says loudly.

Al throws a pillow at him and it quickly dissolves into a pillow fight that neither of them are willing to resign from and ends with the room covered in feathers and the two of them wrestling on the floor and as Al climbs into his bed that night and pulls the covers up to his chin, he thinks; _Life’s good_.

And it’s true, isn’t it? Life is pretty _damn_ good.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be one more in this series from Roy's POV.


End file.
